Sympathy for the Devil
by xcloudx
Summary: Sets after Fast Five.Brian has no idea how the Feds managed to haul his ass back to the station let alone through airport security but they did. Without any idea where Dom and Mia are he has to struggle with his past and his denial.


AN: It would help if you have seen The Departed. I feel like if Leonardo Dicaprio didn't take the spot Paul Walker would have because it kind of fits his M.O. So just pretend it was Brian instead of Leonardo Dicaprio(I forgot his characters name) in The Departed, which was what he did for his five years undercover. **This is not a crossover.**

**Contains Slash. Dom/Brian**

And for all those who watched 'Running Scared' and 'The Departed', the women who plays Paul walker's wife is also Leonardo Dicaprio's therapist in 'The Departed, I figured it would be a good switch to insert Paul into Leonardo's part and maybe thats how Paul meets the women and gets married.(Paul and Leonardo both have a Boston/kinda accents in these movies) I don't know if this is making any sense to those who hasn't seen these two movies.

This story is loosely based around The Departed so you should be able to understand it, it's mainly because there are Departed spoilers that I warn you. It really is a good movie! '

**Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

Brian knew what being undercover involved, he knew the risks but even still he couldn't stop himself from being just another undercover cop with emotional problems. Over time he got over it and he realized what he really wanted in life, he wanted Mia and Dom. He frowns when he thinks of Vince, Jesse and Letty.

A slam on the table brings him back but only for a second.

Everything was perfect in Brazil where the palm trees swayed in the wind and the water kept inching closer and closer reaching for their beach house as night falls. They had beautiful cars parked out in front and beautiful women sleeping in bed. Dom has ways with turning cops that's for sure, but now he can only hope they aren't in the other room of the police station.

The officer has dark skin, brown hair, brown eyes and distinctive features and yet he can't seem to remember him in the force or around the station, but looks oddly familiar, could be a rookie.

"You worked on this case how long O'Conner?"

"It's in my file."

The officer 'interrogating' him just stares making it clear he isn't up for any bullshit.

"'bout a year."

Brian responds quietly, his hands itching for a cigarette.

"And you went undercover again for five years after Toretto's case, correct?"

He stiffens and shifts in his seat, the metal chair digging into his back.

"Affirmative."

"It says here that in order to remain undercover you had no choice but to inhale and ingest drugs, did you talk to the therapist about this? You were trained for this so you should know the procedures you take when something like this happens."

"I completed my assignment and as you can see I'm not a drug addict, is there a point to this conversation?" Brian growls out in frustration.

"And were you debriefed after all your undercover assignments?" The officer half sits on the table looking down at Brian who avoids eye contact.

"Yes."

"It says here that you were never debriefed after your undercover on Braga due to hospitalization, you had a fractured rib and some severe bruising, correct?"

Brian clenches his jaw, this guy is driving him insane.

"Is this going somewhere?" Brian snaps out slamming his hands on the metal table.

The officer pulls Brian out of the chair and stares into Brian's eyes almost as if they're searching.

"Stop doing this to yourself Officer O'Conner, you're the best undercover L.A has had in the last decade so what made you suddenly decide to bust Toretto from going to Lompoc, huh?"

Brian closes his eyes wishing he could go back a few days.

"Did they figure you out? Threaten you? Is that why you went native? Or is it because you've been undercover so long you couldn't handle temptation anymore, maybe you forgot who you really were, what you are. You're not supposed to be a criminal O'Conner you're only supposed to pretend to be."

"It takes a criminal to catch a criminal." Brian says.

"And you are a criminal Brian, but lucky for you the Chief and some higher Feds still need you so for the next two months everyday you are going to a therapist to talk out your issues, clear your head over whatever feelings you have for the criminals in your past so you can get back to work with a clean slate."

He was watched over all the time. When he would drive someone would constantly tail him, someone would always watch his house, while he would be in the market or go to the dentist, the only time they didn't follow him was at the police station.

He couldn't trust his phone lines or anything, all his contact was reduced to one person: his therapist.

He thought being undercover was bad, this was worse. Suddenly he felt like a paranoid freak, he found himself checking over his bathroom from tile to tile, the curtains, the mirror, the shower head, everything just to make sure no wires were inside or cameras were watching. He couldn't even talk out loud, he knew his place was bugged because he found a few but removing them would be pointless. They would just replace them when he left his apartment.

"When I say the name, Dominic Toretto, what comes to mind Brian?"

Another day with Dr. Borden, he's well known for helping faulty cops who crush under pressure on the job. Which doesn't make any cop who sees Borden feel too proud of themselves.

"Tuna sandwiches." One thing Brian learned quickly is, therapists don't take jokes too well. Still sometimes he just can't help himself.

Their conversation went from tuna sandwiches to when he last had a tuna sandwich which was at Dom's. Then suddenly he was forced to bring up his childhood which ultimately stopped there. He wasn't going there, that's not what this therapy was supposed to be about-

"-it's supposed to be about my time undercover!" Brian says frustrated at the nimrod that won't drop his childhood.

"So why don't you tell me about your time undercover Brian? Because from what I'm seeing, correct me if I'm wrong, your father wasn't there for you and that's a hard thing to deal with as a child. Dom seems to be an alpha figure, maybe you saw something in him you saw in your dad that you longed for?"

What a nutcracker, what the hell is this fucker going on about?

"My childhood has nothing to do with how I feel for Dom!"

"And what is it that you feel?"

Brian slams out of the chair and glares down at the 'know-it-all'.

"Nothing! I feel nothing!" He feels like he's taking in too much air, he's so livid.

Nothing is what he feels for his father and himself but not towards Dom. The guys like an enigma Brian's mind can't wrap its head around. What pisses him off most is that he had everything for what felt like a split second, all the work and planning into getting the money and now it's probably in the Feds possession. He had a future with Mia and Dom, but try as he might he can't remember how he turned up at the police station. He has no idea what happened to everyone. It's been a week and they are starting to talk about things he doesn't want to talk about, CAN'T talk about. For all he knows Dom and Mia could be safe somewhere and if he spills any info about Dom that will help them track him.

He doesn't normally snap (so that's a lie) and he shouldn't have lost his cool but everything seems to be crushing in. He's all alone with a weight of guilt on his shoulders; there is no one to talk to who understands him as a friend as family, no distractions to keep from thinking about his mistakes, nothing.

He's home, sitting on his couch with a cold beer in his hand and a cigarette. Every day, like clockwork, he gets up at eight and goes for a quick jog then goes home takes a shower and sleeps for an hour waking up at ten or so. Then he goes to his appointment located at the local police station on the counseling floor at three. He comes home and watches movies or reads or paces his room, mostly paces. He checks his apartment for anymore spyware. Cartons of cigarettes litter his floor and take out boxes litter his kitchen counters, he feels confined in his own apartment. He's not even under house arrest, he can go anywhere as long as he goes to his appointments everyday at three. But how can anyone do anything when they are being watched, stalked everywhere!

He kicks over the small foot table causing his things to scatter all over the floor. He just wishes he could talk to someone, anything, he feels like he's losing it!

"Goddamnit!" He rubs his temples with his fingers, if he continues to stay this angry all the time he might end up having a brain aneurysm.

For this session he didn't brush his hair, he put on a wrinkled shirt and he probably smells like alcohol from the night before. Honestly he can't bring himself to care at the moment.

Dr. Borden takes note of his appearance and writes something then looks up at Brian. Sometimes this is what Borden did; he wouldn't say anything he would just wait until Brian said something and usually Brian would fold because he needs someone to talk to, he needs his therapist because he can't talk to anyone else.

"Can I smoke in here?" He knows he can't but asks anyway.

Borden nods, "Sure, why not?"

Brian raises an eyebrow and lights one up taking in a deep breath. Oh, yeah. Now all he needs is a beer and he's all set.

"Brian, why don't we discuss the differences between your undercover case on Toretto and Costello."

The mention of Costello's name sends a shiver down his spine; he never likes talking about that man. Five years was too long, way too long to be undercover for some psychopath like Costello, it's also too long to have to pretend to have a Boston accent. He should have left; anything except what he did do.

"Costello would fuck the wives of the men who owed him money; you couldn't put your defense down for a minute because if you did he would smell the stench of fear. He could kill without any remorse or second thought it was like the man was the devil on cocaine. Trust me, this guy…" He shakes his head and takes a drag of his cigarette.

"There are so many people dead the Feds are still finding bodies."

"Were you afraid of him?"

"I'm still afraid of him and the man is dead! The guy was completely out of his mind and when he looked straight into your eyes your heart would stop, you'd think 'oh god he knows, that look, there's no way he doesn't' and you would hope he would be quick about it."

"About what?"

Brian sighs, "About killing you."

"Was there any point in the undercover you felt you wanted him to kill you?"

Yes. Many times. All the time! His mind screams turning the guilt knot in his stomach even more. He runs a hand through his hair and shakes his head and winces, all this thinking is giving him a headache.

"You have to understand." Brian stops and finishes his cigarette looking around then looks up at Borden who is handing him an ashtray. Odd.

"After a while you would see all the bullshit this mutha fucka…" He clears his throat trying to get rid of the sudden Boston accent that slipped in. "Nerves were always high, this case relied on me and there ended up being complications and sometimes, yeah it would get tough and you'd want it to be over. But now that I made it…"

The doctor doesn't say anything and writes some things down then looks up.

"And Toretto, how do you compare him to Costello?"

"Toretto is a glorified saint compared to Costello. Are we done yet?" He looks out the window then back to the doctor who has a weary expression on his face.

Soon he started to mess with the cops following him not really sure if he did it out of anger or boredom or frustration. But there was a wave of excitement while doing it, like he was a kid again.

He would drive for two hours in circles, not literally but he would drive to Gelson's supermarket then he would drive downtown where sketchy drug addicts chill (secretly hoping something would happen forcing his tail to take action) then he would go up towards the highway at around high time traffic usually losing them then he would make his way back to his apartment then to Gelson's supermarket again.

Before he would leave his apartment he would leave all sorts of messages on post-it notes around his house. Things like 'Fuck your mom!' and 'Get the fuck out, touchholes!' and 'You'll never catch me alive, coppers!'

Though that back fired on him when he started to get paranoid about what they could do in return. He swore he found a pubic hair in his bed that was definitely not his, it was red. He could no longer trust food he left out because of the possibility of someone messing with it. It was exhausting; the constant feeling of someone violating his privacy was just like jail.

"You look like you haven't slept in days Brian, is everything alright?" asks looking rather concerned.

It's been a month of mind draining therapy and it felt like everything he said to the therapist never made sense. He would tell the therapist about his sense of duty how he needed to help Dom because he felt guilt over Jesse and how Dom isn't really a bad guy, but Borden would turn his words around telling him that it was natural to sympathize with a criminal, to lose a sense of self. After a while he just started saying what he thought the therapist wanted to hear and a weird sense of detachment came along with it. Like therapy was finally making him realize just how ridiculous it was for him to think he could just leave his job and become part of a family he had no business with.

Borden asked him multiple times over the month, _"Why sacrifice everything for this man?"_

Brian couldn't answer the man, wouldn't.

"Yeah I'm fine, just studying and trying to get back on track."

The therapist smiles and Brian wants nothing more than to punch it right off his over-paid face, instead he smiles back.

"Well you certainly are making progress Brian, your Chief has been asking about you recently. I'm glad to say that I can report to him with good news. Though I still want you to come for the rest of your therapy, we don't want you to regress into these feelings."

Brian nods feeling empty.

That night he started to organize shit in his apartment, moving things around like his couch, his television, shelves, hoping to throw off his lurkers. They never came inside when he was there but he knew they came in when he was gone. Technically they could have him in prison for the shit that went down in Brazil but as long as he remains important…

A small creaking noise makes him stop, it's coming from the back window. He drops his stuff and slowly works his way over to the back wishing he had a weapon so he picks up his already unplugged lamp.

A loud thump and a slide of a window closing.

Brian backs up and moves from the door, the intruder is going to have to come through the doorway he is standing behind in order to go any further so he takes his chance to attack when the person walks by. He briefly wonders if he should risk smashing the intruder with a lamp, the guy could be a cop and that's the last thing he needs. He can see it now.

'Brian O'Connor broke the camel's back when he killed a cop with a twenty dollar lamp. The cop he killed was a proud husband of forty seven years and a father of five, has been considered a war hero since his four year tour in Afghanistan and was going to retire the day after he was brutally murdered by the traitor cop who let his whole life go to shit bringing down the people he loves with him, said traitor is now looking at twenty five years to life!'

He's startled and has a delayed reaction as he stares at the face in front of him. Of course he knows it's Dom but his hand has other plans and launches the lamp anyway. Dom ducks and swears.

"What the hell Brian you tryin'a kill me!"

Brian stares and then tackles Dom into a fierce hug. The smell musty scent of Dom floods his senses and he lets go looking at the muscular man he thought he would never see again.

"What happened, Dom? Are you and Mia okay? I have no fucking clue as to what," Suddenly he stops and Dom's about to answer but Brian's hand covers Dom.

Brian lets out a fake yawn, and tries to his best to act. "Aw man I broke my lamp, eh, I'll finish this stuff tomorrow."

Dom looks at him like he's off his rocker and Brian motions Dom to be quiet and he pulls Dom into the bathroom where he knows there are no wires.

He breathes onto the mirror creating a fog then writes with his finger, 'BUGGED'.

Dom's eyes go wide then narrows looking around. He takes Brian's arm and pulls him out of the bathroom a bit carelessly and they go back in from where Dom entered.

"_You have to come back home_." Dom whispers and Brian feels his heart ache.

Brian didn't need telling twice and follows Dom out of his apartment, they hide behind the neighbors bushes and try not to be seen as they work their way to an old red Chevy parked on the other side of the street. They don't speak until they are in the clear, thirty miles east, and their nerves are somewhat settled.

Brian takes a breath of relief and settles into the light brown worn out seat; he hasn't felt this relaxed since he's been back. He needs a shower… maybe a cigarette… definitely a home cooked meal.

"Me and Mia woke up and found you gone. Like you never even existed, it was the weirdest… scariest shit I ever went through Brian. They took your clothes, your shoes, pictures of you and us we had in the house everything that had to do with you."

"My car?"

Dom looks his way, "It's okay, we'll get you a better one."

"So… they didn't get to our money did they?"

Dom laughs, "Nah, we had Hans help and he set us up real good with this bank in Korea that's for rich people or something. They'll never suspect."

"S'good." Brian feels his lids start to droop even though he tries to fight it.

He feels his shoulder shaking and he wakes up to Dom talking to him.

"Were here man, c'mon. Get your ass in gear."

"f'wha?" Brian yawns, that has got to have been the best sleep he had since his abduction.

"Brian, we have to hurry. They can still get to us."

That woke him right up, also did it was the sudden sound of a plane over head. He looks around, the airport is small and there are only a few airplanes from what he can see. They must have driven for quite a while because it looks like a desolate airport in the middle of the countryside.

"We are using a private plane. We're heading to Germany. That's where Han and Gisele are, Mia just arrived there about two weeks ago."

He never felt so… rich… no... He never felt so alive. It was just him and Dom on the plane and the pilots headed toward Germany. He smiles and for a second he forgets about everything that happened to him, no need to think about shit that doesn't have to matter anymore. He rubs his hand against the nice leather fabric that makes up the seat. Sparkling gold chips are imbedded in the table that's grounded in between Dom and himself, a tin pale with ice holds several Heinekens which Brian gladly helps himself to.

"So, what happened?"

Brian takes a gulp of his beer knowing he would have to tell Dom about his grand get-a-way.

"No idea, I went to bed and the next thing I know I'm waking up in a chair in an interrogation room. They want me back." He grumbles and doesn't look at Dom.

"What… back as in… what? A cop?"

Brian nods and looks at Dom.

"No." Dom laughs and stares at Brian. "Wow, you were that good huh? Well that's pretty sad."

Brian kicks Dom's leg.

"So are you a cop again O'Connor?"

"No but they think… thought I was… man you have no idea how messed up these people were… are!" Brian sits up leaning forward to Dom. "They had me in therapy for a month, supposed to be two, everyday for two hours. They thought I needed to be fixed, thought I finally snapped because I did one too many undercovers that led in the result of me helping you steal the money, me turning native. They didn't understand though…"

Brian trails off and takes a pull from his bottle.

Dom frowns, "And Hobbs had no say in this matter?"

Brian stops and grimaces, "He wasn't around."

"Sounds… sketchy. Did you know any of these people?"

"No, but it was at a police station. Dom… what if… God I need another beer."

What if the whole thing was a sick joke, sweet revenge? He never really saw anyone except Borden and the other officer… and now that he thought of it he never saw the people who kept following him. He wasn't one to be afraid but something about them constantly behind him, waiting for him to mess up.

"Wait how did you know where to find me?" He asks trying to open another beer but it just won't open. He never recalled giving Dom his real apartment address. He looks up at Dom who stares down at him with dark fury then slaps him across his face.

"What?"

Everything is abruptly black and he feels himself on the ground.

He tries to open his eyes but struggles to come back. He also feels groggy; he moves his mouth trying to distinguish why it feels cottony. Something is wrong but he can't tell what it is, he tries shifting his body but it feels stuck on something.

He opens his eyes only managing to make out bright light and some moving shadows, his mouth is open and he feels something plastic? Something isn't right! His heart starts to pound and he whimpers and struggles against the restraints trying to get whatever is in his mouth that's making it hard to breath.

"Mijo," He hears someone calling to him.

"I need you to cough really hard, okay, squeeze my hand if you understand."

Brian grabs whatever and squeezes then coughs as hard as he feels possible and feels a tube slide out of his throat and from his mouth.

He blinks rapidly and looks around nurses are everywhere, he must be in Brazil because he can barely hear any English or maybe his brain is too scrambled after what happened. What did happen? He looks at the Brazilian nurse in front of him who is writing something then she looks to him and points a flashlight into his eyes.

"Eh!" He groans and turns away.

"Sorry," She apologizes and continues with the physical asking him questions, some in Portuguese which he tried to respond but found that he really had no idea what she was saying. Not to mention his throat is killing him and really just wants to drink something then pass out again. He looks around for some water, the nurse already left so he starts looking at himself.

Arms. Check. Legs. He can feel. He pulls back the blanket hesitantly hoping nothing is too bad. He only feels stiff but that could be deceiving. After a few more seconds of prodding and checking himself he lets out a breath, he's fine except for a couple scratches and Lord knows he's had worse.

"Brian!" Dom and Mia stop in shock but only for a second before then rush into the room.

Mia places a bundle of flowers carelessly to the side and hugs Brian.

"You're awake, thank God you're awake!" She cries into his shoulder and he tries to soothe her by rubbing her back.

Dom's hand holds his shoulder, "Scared the shit out of us Bri."

"What happened?" He asks looking up at Dom.

Mia pulls back and Dom frowns and folds his arms.

A doctor walks in, well the man looked like a doctor. He has a clip board and smiles saying something brief to Dom and Mia before looking back at him and starting in English.

"Glad you're back with us, Brian. I'd like to ask you several questions, you took a rather harsh beating to your head and we just want to make sure everything is alright, okay?"

Brian blinks and quickly tries to think of something he might be forgetting, "Uh, yeah."

"What's your name?"

"Brian Patrick O'Connor."

"How old are you?"

"Thirty-one." His palms feel sweaty and he clenches the bed sheet.

"Are you in pain?" He looks up and the doctor is looking concerned.

"Just nervo…" He can't finish, he feels like he's trembling. "C-can I get water?" He avoids Mia's eyes, he feels so pathetic.

Dom immediately leaves and comes back several minutes later with a pitcher and a cup. He pours some and goes to hand it to him then stops when he looks at Brian's shaky hands.

"Let me," Dom says not leaving any room for arguing he brings the cup to Brian's lips. Brian drinks the water greedily feeling like he hasn't drank anything in a long time.

"I know this is difficult Brian but I must finish asking you some more questions." He waits for approval before he continues. "Can you hold up four fingers for me?"

Brian holds up four.

"You know your right from your left?"

Brian nods and indicates his left and right hand.

"What's the last thing you remember?'

Brian closes his eyes, he remembers getting on the plane with Dom, his therapy sessions, but if they are in Brazil and Mia is here. He rubs his face and he feels Mia rubbing his back.

"I don't know," Everything before seemed so real, was just a figment of his imagination? Why would he torture himself like that? "What happened to me?"

The doctor looks at his chart, "Well you hit your head pretty bad, we needed to open your skull because the swelling was severe but you're all set now. Just a small scar, nothing that can't be covered with hair, although it may still be tender. We will do some more tests later just to be sure."

Brian looks over at Dom and Mia knowing this must have been hard for them.

"Your car is wrecked but it wasn't your fault, we don't know who did it but some guy tried to kill you, according to some witnesses." Dom's practically shaking with anger. "Fucking asshole ran you off the road and when you crashed he just left you there."

What? He doesn't remember that.

Brian shakes his head, "Nah man, you've got to be joking nobody could have been able to,"

"Stop it Brian, just stop it! You're human, not some super man, you see where you are? You've been in a coma for a month now and these doctors had no clue when you might wake up again. You almost died!"

Mia yells at him while Dom tries to calm her down. The doctor looks out of place and then tells Brian of some tests they will run just to make sure everything is okay for him to start therapy. He cringes and says goodbye to the doctor.

"Mia, he just got up give him at least a day or else he might decide to go into a coma again." Dom laughs but Mia looks at Brian.

"You better not." She sniffs and rubs her eyes. "I'm gonna get us some coffee."

As soon as she leaves Dom hugs Brian nestling his head in the crook of his neck.

"You don't know how fucking shitty I've been, we've been." Dom shakes his head and pulls back and stares at Brian almost as if he is moments from vanishing. "I got the make of the vehicle the bastard was driving but I haven't found the son of a bitch. You don't remember who tried to kill you?"

Brian struggles but can't, "Dom, I'm sorry… again. Man this wasn't supposed to happen, nothing ever turns out right! Why can't things just… just… Fuck!" Brian starts pulling out the wires in his arms, the machine beside him starts beeping. He needs air, fresh air.

"Shit Brian, what are you doing!"

Dom holds his arms down. "You're only hurting yourself, Jesus Brian you just woke up."

"I need to get out of this place I can't be here anymore Dom."

Dom sighs and nods.

The doctors thought it was a miracle how fast Brian was recovering; Dom thought it was pure stubbornness that was getting Brian better. It took him about a week to finally be able to walk around for a couple of hours without needing help after that it was a piece of cake to get back on track again. Or he thought it was going to be.

He opens the car door and gets inside and turns on the engine. And it was like he turned an engine on inside his brain because suddenly he is flashing back.

"_Costigan," Referring to Brian's undercover last name, "I want you to follow my instructions very clearly, understand?" Costello says seriously, blood covering the front of his white shirt. "You are going to take this bag and dispose of the body on the south side of Dan River; it's a little messy but nothing you can't handle. And if you don't handle it properly…" Costello laughs out and slaps a bloody hand on Brian's shoulder leaving a bloody smear, "You'll be the next one seeing the inside of a bag like that one."_

_He nods and takes the dead weight bag and sets it in the trunk of his car. Not a body. It's not a body. No body. He lights up a cigarette wishing it would take away the stench._

"Brian!" Dom's voice snaps him out of it.

Brian cuts off the engine and gets out of the car shaking and pale he walks past Dom.

"Hey," Dom catches up to Brian and takes him by the arm. "You remember?"

Brian looks up at Dom but looks away feeling disgusted with himself. Dom did what? Almost killed a man. Almost. He went to prison for it, he did time. But Dom was a muscle man version of Robin Hood, stealing oil for the poor and stealing from the rich.

"What are you thinking?"

"I'm not who you think I am." He rips his arm away from Dom's grasp feeling unsure. "Even after all this you don't…"

No. For those five years he helped a ruthless murderer and even though he was protected and justified by law there were times when he didn't feel that protection, he just felt like a regular human being doing things he never thought imaginable.

Dom takes Brian by the shoulders.

"You're wrong, I may seem like a hard head but I notice A LOT of things about you Brian and I trust you more than anything. We wouldn't be here if it weren't for you, I'd be in jail and Mia would be on her own."

"No. Dom I did things."

"Brian, shut up" Dom says just before he leans forward and captures Brian's mouth with his own.

**Just As Every Cop Is A Criminal  
>And All The Sinner Saints<strong>


End file.
